


Vertigo

by Meinhiding



Series: Karedevil fics [20]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boxing, But I haven't watched the second so this may make no sense, DD has issues, Matt has issues, Pre-Daredevil Season 3, Set after The Defenders and The Punisher, Written after having watched the first trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meinhiding/pseuds/Meinhiding
Summary: Matt tries to live a new life as Daredevil leaving his old life and his friends behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by this quote: “Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.” ― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

Lost in his own darkness, but alive. He is alive. 

Somewhere in New York, there is a church that is hidden behind the walls of a convent nobody takes the trouble to look twice. Only from above is it possible to see its pinnacles and spires, aiming at a sky it cannot reach. Nobody admires its glory because everyone is absorbed in bricks that hold mundane jobs and ordinary lives. They all seem to have turned their backs on God. 

Matt passes its threshold and makes his way towards an improvised gym. His boxing equipment is surrounded by religious figures and scented with a faint smell of incense that reminds him of the days he has left behind, the days when he found comfort in his faith. He scoffs at the irony. Those beliefs are part of a life that is no longer his. 

Sometimes a martyr and sometimes a devil, Matt has always been a lost soul. He has always been desperate to make sense of the life he has been condemned to live. And he has risked it to find its meaning, to do what he believed to be God’s work. But he has failed again and again. He has lost his faith, and almost his life and his sanity doing what he thinks God Himself should have done. He has tried to understand His mysterious ways, but he can no longer accept them having witnessed so much cruelty and pain. Maybe God sees him as a fallen believer, but it is God who has turned his back on him. It is Him who has let him down, ignoring his prayers day after day after day. 

He takes off his sweatshirt and the body he reveals is covered with wounds and bandages. It may be broken, but it breathes, claiming it is alive, portraying a wrecked figure, a phoenix that died in flames and is brought back to life. Risen from the dead and ready to fight again. Still a convalescent, his hunger to fight beats his need to heal. So Matt puts his boxing gloves on and lets the show begin.

He takes a step forward and reaches out for the punching bag. It is hard to tell where it is when his heightened senses fail, and that is what they have been doing since that building collapsed on top of him. He lowers his head and sighs. Then, he takes a step back, bends down his knees a bit, focuses on the bag and lets the devil out. 

Jab with his left arm, jab with his right one. One, one, two. One, one, two. One, two. One. But the bag vanishes for a moment and his glove hits the air. He growls, turns around and growls again, louder this time, gritting his teeth. He shakes his head in frustration, and stops to have a deep breath. In and out, in and out again. He needs to focus. He needs to get his senses back. He knows they are there, hidden, like he is, but there. 

It is a slow and distressing process, but the bag is there again. Those senses that define him, that make him who he really is, are there. He turns around smirking. He can still fight, he is not done yet. 

He throws a jab, and then another one. He raises his right hand to cover his face. He will need to be ready to counter. It is going to be harder now that his senses come and go as they please. Left, right. Left, right. He will have to think, he will have to be more careful to stay alive, if that is what he really wants. Is it? He rejects the recurrent suicidal thought shaking his head. He cannot go through that, he cannot let himself fall. He needs to keep going. He needs to fight. That is all he is now. That is all he will ever be. One, one. One, two. One, one. He turns his hips to hit harder with his right. As hard as he can. And then he smells it: blood. 

And memories come back. Like they always do when he feels his blood running down his face. Its sweet metallic smell reminds him of Karen’s wounds when he was unable to protect her, of Foggy in a hospital bed, vainly waiting for him to show up. 

He is ready for the punches and prepared to die. But his past life– that is something he can’t cope with, he needs to leave it behind. He knows he can’t face them. They are better off without him. It would be too dangerous. They would get hurt, wounded, killed because of him. And even if they didn’t, they have already mourned him. They do not need him to be back. To them, he is dead. There is no point to make them go through all that again. Because it would happen again. This is the best thing for them. He can’t let them know he is alive. He can’t. He would fail them, disappoint them again. 

Matt Murdock is dead. And that's the way it needs to be– isn’t it?

These thoughts and feelings feed fears and _what ifs_ that should never cross his mind. They open the door to risks he can’t take. But he is tempted. Same as the darkness lures him, so do the ones who used to light the days when he was still Matt Murdock, a regular lawyer in Hell’s Kitchen, an avocado at law. He sighs knowing he needs to stop thinking about that life. 

But would it be so terrible if he escaped for a few minutes to hear their voices again? Just to check on them? To see them living the life he decided was meant for them but not for him? 

He would love to see his once-best friend enjoying that personal and professional success he had always dreamed of. Foggy achieved everything he ever wanted as soon as he stopped being an obstacle for him. Just like he knew he would.

And would it be such a huge mistake if he went to Karen’s rooftop? He would not dare to get near her, just close enough to perceive that sweet smell of hers. She would never see him, she would never know he was there. She would probably be too busy uncovering truths and digging up information for her amazing stories to notice him anyway.

He shakes his head, and snorts. He knows he should not do it, even thinking about it is risky. He needs to control his actions and his thoughts. _It can never happen_. He repeats to himself as he kneels to grab the towel to clean up his face before he throws it back to the floor again. He positions himself and throws a jab, frustrated but certain that it is the right thing to do. He will resist temptation like he did the day before and like he will have to do the following day. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is not as in control of his emotions as he thinks he is. Knowing that Fisk is going to be released is the last straw for him.

He keeps repeating it to himself: he needs to stay away from those who used to be his friends. He knows it. He is fully aware of it. But sometimes, temptation is difficult to resist. Sometimes he is too weak or maybe too smug, who knows. And _sometimes_ probably happens much more often than he would like to admit. But his senses seem to be back most of the time now. There is nothing to be afraid of. He knows what he is doing, he is _in control_. At least that is what he thinks.

It is then, one of those nights when he slips out of the convent to lurk around them, that he hears her saying the words that change everything.

“I know, Foggy, he’s–” she gulped, “he’s asked for a–”

He can hear Foggy’s voice at the other end of the line interrupting her but he can’t discern the words he is saying. He disregards all the noise that surrounds him trying to focus on his voice, but he can’t figure out what’s going on.

“Yes, yes, I know,” she continues, “but we both knew it was just a matter of time, Foggy. It’s Fisk we’re talking about. One way or another, he was going to find the way to get out eventually–” 

Matt feels the world crumbling underneath his feet, vertigo taking control over him. He remains motionless for a few minutes as he perceives his body panicking. He tries to breathe at a normal pace and fights hard to control the nausea and the dizziness that is overwhelming him. This is what could never happen. This is– this is what he needs to stop.

Meanwhile, he hears the background noise of Karen’s fake calm voice talking to Foggy on the phone. She is sure everything will be ok. A lie. They did nothing wrong; their job, that was all. Another lie. Why is it a lie? She is trembling. He can’t analyse it right now. He needs to concentrate and get as much information as he possibly can. She is sure they are safe. Not only a lie, but terror. Terror. In Karen’s voice. 

He knows she has plenty of reasons to be scared, the three of them saw the kind of monster Fisk is, but soon he discovers there is yet another reason why, despite her courage, she is terrified: Ellison has asked her to write an article about Fisk and she has had no choice but to say yes. She knows him better than anyone else at the Bulletin. What else could she do? And now she needs to go to prison and interview him before he is released. Face to face. In the same room. Fisk and her. 

Foggy tries to find the way to make her see how dangerous it is, she needs to be smarter than that, her well-being is far more important than her career. Karen’s next words confirm Matt’s worst fears as she tries to present the perfect reasoning to agree with this. The Bulletin needs that interview and Fisk said he would only talk to her. No other reporter, just her. 

At that very moment, panic takes control over Matt. He recalls the day he went to prison to see him. He remembers every smell, every noise, every word Fisk said. He knows he made one of the biggest mistakes in his life that day, when he tried to use Vanessa to threaten him. What a stupid idea. He thought Fisk had no power left and he could haughtily show him there was nothing he could ever do to get things his way again. But he could, and he did. And his friends became his target. And now he is getting out. And there is nothing he can do about it. Except–

Maybe hiding was the best choice when Foggy and Karen had nothing to lose and a lot to win. But now, now everything is different and he needs to do exactly what he did not want to do: see them and admit he survived the collapse at Midland Circle. 

Because now that Fisk is being released, they must know to what extent they have to stay away from him. Things will sure get much worse than they expect. Fisk will do anything to see them fall. And Karen, she can’t interview him. She just can’t. He must stop her. As soon as he can. Because maybe she will be the one asking the questions, but he will be the one gathering information to see how to destroy them. And he is the one responsible for it. He should have never gone to see him. How stupid, how arrogant of him. He made them a target. And now he needs to stop him. Whatever it takes. 

So he uses the fire escape stairs to sneak inside her building and, only when he is sure that there is nobody near the hallway, he goes to her apartment door, takes off the black piece of cloth that is covering his head and knocks on her door. 

He feels her tensing under her sheets, getting ahold of the loaded gun she keeps under her pillow. 

“It’s ok,” he whispers as if she could hear him.

Terrified, she leaves the bed holding her gun and tiptoes towards the door pointing at whoever is behind it. 

“Karen, it’s– it’s me,” she hears a familiar voice saying.

She must be dreaming. It can’t be real. It never is. Every time this happens, she wakes up trembling, her sheets soaked in sweat, and he’s still gone. Same as those nights when she feels she is being watched and thinks she sees a shadow moving, nothing is ever there when she looks. All the times she has wished for it to happen, it never has. Why would it be different this time?

“Matt?” She asks, certain that she is only talking to herself.

“Can I– Could you let me in?” is all he manages to say. 

Slowly, still in shock, she opens the door and puts her gun down when she sees his face. Her eyes soon start watering and, saying nothing, she takes two steps back to let him in. 

As soon as he closes the door, and before he gets the chance to think or say anything, her arms are around him, holding him tight, her face nestling in the crook of his neck. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he gives in to his wish: he holds her back and breathes her in. 

He knows he should not be doing this. Like Stick told him once, he needs to cut all his ties to humanity. That is the only way to fight a war. But now she is there, in his arms, and he feels himself sinking into her, getting weaker and weaker. And he can’t let this happen, he needs to keep some distance or he will be broken again. He can’t let the lawyer take control over him. He must be the devil, and only the devil.

Fighting his own desire, he breaks the embrace and moves towards the living-room.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispers when she finally gets her voice back.

“And I still am, Karen. I’m not here to come back,” he says as indifferently as he can. 

He knows he is hurting her, but she can’t see how important she is to him, she can’t see that emotional part of Matt that needs to remain hidden behind the suit.

“So that’s it, huh?” she mutters. “No explanations, no apologies–”

His heart breaks when he feels her shaking her head, shrugging, wiping away her tears. But he can’t do it. He can’t be there for her, not like she wants him to. 

“I just came here to warn you. You and Foggy—you are in danger,” he says consciously changing the subject. 

“That’s no longer your business.” 

He snorts. Even when she is broken, she is stronger than he will ever be.

“Listen, Karen, Fisk is going to go after you.”

“You heard me on the phone, didn’t you?” She asks, interrupting him. He just nods. 

“It's better if you stay away from him. I’m going to take care of this, of him.” 

She lets out a laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh? That you’re going to kill him, Matt? Is that it? Is that who you are now?” She asks shaking her head and frowning.

He ignores the question and that name that is no longer his.

“Karen, you need to trust me with this: stay away from him”. 

“How dare you come here and talk about _trust_ after–”

“I’m telling you, because he’s going to go after _you_ ,” he yells at her. 

He knows he is losing control, his temperature is rising and he is trembling more than she is. So he gulps, takes a deep breath and continues. 

“He warned me after the trial, Karen,” he whispers getting closer to her and reaching his arm out for her, but she takes a step back and raises her hands as a sign for him to stop himself, so he does.

“Please, you need to listen to me, you can’t– you can’t see him, you can’t get involved with him again, it’s too dangerous.” 

“Too late, Matt, I’m already involved,” she says defiantly as she tilts her head and folds her arms.

He grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Then I’ll be watching you, every day, making sure nothing happens to you two,” he says raising his head and using the same defiant tone.

She lets out a laugh again and covers her mouth with one of her hands. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, shaking her head.

“I don’t believe this. You disappeared for months, Matt, we thought you were dead! And now you come back and expect us to do what? ask no questions? follow your orders? trust our lives to you and cover you up?”

She gets no answers, he just stays there, silent and motionless.

“You know what? If that’s the reason why you’re here, I think you should leave. I– I don’t need your protection.”

He snorts and says,

“Look, this is all on me and I’m– I’m going to fix it.” 

She shakes her head again. She can’t believe that after all her tears, all her nightmares, all the nights she has spent with her phone on her nightstand, waiting for a call to tell her he is alive, this is all she is going to get: empty words and an overwhelming feeling of solitude. Maybe he is alive, but nothing else has changed. She is as alone as she was before she opened the door for him. 

“Yes, you definitely need to leave.” She says unable to say anything else. 

He turns around and walks towards her door. 

“I’ll be around, if anything happens. When you need me, I’ll be there.” He asserts when he gets to her apartment door. 

“I’m sure you mean well, Matt, but you stopped being there for me a long time ago.”

He hides the way her words make him feel, because they shouldn’t, because the devil must be cold, distant, focused. He can’t get distracted with feelings when someone like Fisk is going to be on the streets tracking them down. That's not who he is. Not anymore. 

But just before he leaves, despite his efforts to control himself, Matt finds the way out of that suit he has locked himself into. It is just a moment, but long enough to disarm the devil and to try and find some words to comfort her.

“I’ve never stopped caring about you, Karen,” he says. 

She huffs, rolls her eyes incredulously and says nothing. She can’t let herself believe him. Not anymore. Not after everything she has been through. Her whole body tenses, waiting for him to leave to start dealing with the anger and frustration she is holding back. 

Once he is out, she takes a deep breath, locks the door and goes to her room. She puts her gun back where it belongs and lies down on her bed. She adopts the same posture she had before she heard that knock on the door, and looks at the same spot on the wall she stares at every night.

However, everything is different now. The noises of the city, the temperature of the room, the light that comes through the window, they all seem different now. Matt’s still gone, he made it clear that he’s not coming back, but he’s alive. And she feels angry and frustrated and hurt, and more scared than she has ever been, but also relieved and slightly hopeful. Because he is alive. Even if she can’t make any sense out of the mixture of feelings she’s going through, now smiling, now crying, even if he will make things difficult, like he always does, he is alive. Matt is alive.


End file.
